


riptide

by spacegirlkj



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bondage, Face-Sitting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Riding, Rimming, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegirlkj/pseuds/spacegirlkj
Summary: “You ready?” Hinata asks, pausing just above Oikawa’s navel. Lit from behind, a soft glow emanates from around his form as he waits for Oikawa’s answer. Oikawa has never shied away from meeting Hinata with reverence, but here, in the singularity that is their bedroom, he is something akin to a god all on his own.Oikawa swallows, and nods his head. “Yes,” he rasps, already halfway gone.--Or, Oikawa lets Hinata take the lead for the first time.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53
Collections: Play Ball Zine Collection





	riptide

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys! ive been a late on posting this because ive been so busy but this was my piece for the Play Ball zine! Liann made some absolutely delicious art for it which you can see on her twt: @Liann1009
> 
> without further ado, i hope you enjoy!

It’s not that starting like this is unusual, with Oikawa lying supine. He’s no stranger to letting Hinata take the lead in that sense, lying back with him sitting on his hips. It’s that something is markedly different tonight, noted in the silence that hangs in the room. Oikawa doesn’t think he’s ever been _anxious_ before getting into bed with Hinata, not even the first time they stumbled home together in Brazil. Plenty of his favorite nights have started with him in a similar position, only smirking, only much more assured. Here and now, the promise of a good night is imminent yet so far away, hidden behind a layer of uncertainties and unknowns. 

Every rustle of the sheets brings the knot of anticipation closer to Oikawa’s throat. Hinata sits between his thighs, stretched out on top of him to reach the headboard. Like this, Oikawa can see the well-defined curve of his chest through the undone buttons of his shirt. Chains rattle against the bars as he secures them, fumbling every so often with his inexperienced hands. Oikawa has always been the one to tighten them before today. Hinata’s struggle is… _cute_ _._ Leave it to him to be adorable while attempting to handcuff Oikawa to their bed.

The leather cuffs are next, supple and well worn, though their buckle is stretched a size larger than usual. Hinata’s fingertips rest over his pulse, and surely he must feel the accelerating pace of Oikawa’s heart, a rapid rise that only intensifies once they’re tightened and fed through the chains.

“Not too tight?” Hinata asks, sitting back onto his heels. His thighs force Oikawa’s own to open wide, making space for himself between Oikawa’s legs. There’s no hiding in this position, not from himself and his own shame or the weight of Hinata’s gaze. Exposed, all Oikawa can do is shift his focus away from the sight of his own stirring cock and onto Hinata’s face. He tips his head to the side, waiting for an answer. 

Oikawa tugs on the restraints with all of his might. There’s little to no budge, chains grinding against the barred headboard. “Perfect,” he tells him, and means it. 

The smile on Hinata’s face is familiar, not unlike the way he stares at a ball drifting through the air. One hand reaches forward, sliding up Oikawa’s bare chest. He digs his fingertips into Oikawa’s pectorals, makes indents out of the sculpted muscle before dragging his fingers back down. Blunt nails catch Oikawa’s skin, scratching lower, lower, lower until Hinata moves them back. With one forefinger, he presses down on Oikawa’s sternum, dragging it down the center line of his abs.

“You ready?” he asks, pausing just above Oikawa’s navel. Lit from behind, a soft glow emanates from around his form as he waits for Oikawa’s answer. Oikawa has never shied away from meeting Hinata with reverence, but here, in the singularity that is their bedroom, he is something akin to a god all on his own. 

Oikawa swallows, and nods his head. “Yes,” he rasps, already halfway gone.

Hinata greets him with a kiss, with each palm splayed out over his ribs as their mouths meet. It tickles just enough that Oikawa shudders, already sensitive. The warmth of Hinata’s kiss seeps into Oikawa’s lips, intensified with every breath he takes. Despite the wave of near nausea he feels, the mix of excitement and dread, the kiss leaves him melting, arms relaxed in their place above his head. His fingers twitch with the desire to touch Hinata, but Oikawa _always_ wants to touch Hinata. Instead, he savors the places where their bodies touch, the slide of skin on skin as their bodies press together. Hinata reaches forward to cup Oikawa’s cheek, holding his face steady. Oikawa leans into his strong, calloused palm, closing his eyes as the bliss takes over.

When Hinata rolls his hips down against Oikawa’s, still clothed by his briefs, Oikawa’s stomach drops. His hips roll up, partly out of instinct, and partly to chase the stomach-swooping, mind-bending feeling of Hinata above him. Hinata is quick to pin them back down, thighs bracketing Oikawa’s with all the strength Oikawa knows he has. 

“I thought you said I didn’t need to tie your legs?” Hinata asks, and _oh_ , his voice is still his own, even when darkened by greed. It’s questioning and light, slightly amused to match the subtle curve of a smile that graces his face as he pulls away. 

Oikawa can’t help it—he blushes. It’s a flush that burns his ears, deepening in the same way it does when he’s drunk: quick and all encompassing. Still, he puffs out his chest as best he can, tilts his chin up, and raises a brow. “What, you don’t think you can hold them apart?” 

If Hinata had said it to him, he would spend the whole night paying for it. Some part of Oikawa _wants_ to be in that position—the same part that blushes as Hinata’s nails scratch down his chest. But Hinata doesn’t get mad. He doesn’t even frown at Oikawa’s own smirk. The lack of reaction from someone Oikawa has spent years trying to learn jars him from his own moment of pride. Instead, Hinata leans forward and kisses him so softly that it hurts. The butterfly brush of his mouth against Oikawa’s sends a flurry to his heart, releases a small whimper from his lips. Perhaps it’s the anticipation that makes Oikawa shudder. Maybe it’s something simpler—Hinata leaning back to spit into his palm, then reaching between them to wrap his hand around Oikawa’s cock.

Oikawa gasps, head falling back as Hinata’s face breaks into a grin. He fucks his hips up into Hinata’s palm with the little leverage he has, humming as Hinata squeezes down the shaft. Hinata may be smaller, but he’s heavy, all solid muscle and sculpted thighs. He weighs down Oikawa’s lower half and keeps him from writhing too much as Hinata speeds up his hand, twisting his wrist just how Oikawa likes. 

With Hinata’s button-down barely hanging on to his shoulders, Oikawa is free to ogle his chest. The muscles shift under golden skin as Hinata works him, shirt sliding off one shoulder to reveal inches of gorgeous collarbone. Oikawa’s wrists pull against the cuffs as he leans up as far as he can, wishing he could run his hands over Hinata’s skin. Instead, he tilts his upper body up to meet Hinata’s, to kiss him with all he has. It’s all he can do to stay strained against his own shoulders as Hinata sucks on his bottom lip and draws shivers from his ribcage. But Oikawa can’t complain about this situation, not when it feels so good to be at the mercy of someone like Shouyou.

Oikawa’s tongue slips past Hinata’s lips while Hinata’s hands settle at his hips, thumbs pressing into his flesh. It’s deep and hot and fast, with Oikawa pulling back only to bite Hinata and move back in. Oikawa lets himself be pushed and pulled, cranes his neck and prays for Hinata to hold him close as if he’d for some reason let go. He doesn’t, always pressing closer, breaking the kiss only to bite his jaw. 

_“Hah—”_ Oikawa wheezes, finding his own breath as Hinata twists his wrist. “Fuck, Shouyou—”

“Yeah?” Hinata asks, lips ghosting over Oikawa’s neck. “You’re doing really well, Tooru.”

Oikawa swears all of the blood left in his head rushes to his cock the moment Hinata speaks. There’s no way he should sound innocent while saying Oikawa’s name, and yet the delicate lilt in his voice betrays the lewd sight of Hinata pumping his cock. Already Oikawa starts to feel the wave of an orgasm encroaching, the telltale tightening in his stomach. His eyes fall half shut, nose wrinkles, lips half formed around Hinata’s name when his release hits a wall. 

_“Shouyou…”_ Oikawa whines as his boyfriend takes his hand away, cracking open an eye as the sharp edge fades into nothingness. He sounds pathetic to his own ears, pouting over a lost orgasm. Hinata bites his lip to hold back a laugh, kissing Oikawa’s cheek.

Through the haze of his own stupor, Oikawa inspects the blush that burns Hinata’s skin red. There’s no masking how flustered Oikawa makes him—Hinata’s body has never told a lie. As Oikawa’s breathing begins to level out, Hinata sweeps his fingertips over Oikawa’s shoulders, up to where his biceps strain by his ears. 

“Relax,” Hinata murmurs, nailing scratching lightly across Oikawa’s arms. His voice is light, almost teasing. “It’s not like you’re going anywhere.”

Something curls in Oikawa’s chest, something that eats away at his carefully held pride with surprising ease. He twists his wrists and shudders when the chains _clink_ , the delicate sound like wind chimes on a pale afternoon. Relaxing would be easier if his cock wasn’t rock hard and throbbing, if Hinata didn’t lower his lips to Oikawa’s neck and lavish the spots he knows Oikawa loves. Oikawa’s eyes flutter, his shoulders sinking into the bed as he melts against his own will. 

Hinata’s lips trail lower, over collarbones and shoulders. He teeths at the skin and draws sharp breaths from Oikawa’s lungs, following the rise and fall of Oikawa’s chest. Hinata’s hands tremble as they wash over his abs, up and down, up and down. The motions soothe them both as his palms settle on Oikawa’s pecs, nails digging into his skin to create a half moon of divots just above his nipples. When Hinata’s tongue drags along Oikawa’s sternum, all of that fight vanishes for just a moment. Silence pounds between them, engulfing the moment as Hinata licks the sweat from his skin, tongue swiping over to flick against one of Oikawa’s nipples. 

There’s no stopping his back from arching off of the mattress as Hinata’s mouth latches onto the nub and sucks. Oikawa has always been sensitive around his chest, never paying it any mind for the sole reason that he comes too soon whenever he does. Even the gentle tug of Hinata’s fingers on his other nipple is almost too much—he’s never been fond of pain in the way that Hinata is. 

“Too much,” Oikawa gasps, pressing the soles of his feet into the mattress. “Too much too much too much—”

Hinata pulls away all too soon, staring down at Oikawa in wide-eyed silence. “Do—do you wanna stop?” he asks him. The stutter in his breath betrays all his earlier strength, and suddenly, Hinata seems _small_ _,_ curled up in Oikawa’s lap and anchoring his palms above his heartbeat.

It takes a moment for Oikawa to collect his thoughts, mind addled with confusion. “I didn’t ask for that,” he says, as soothingly as he can with his entire body still a livewire. It’s his turn to blush, to grit his teeth as he struggles with his own dignity to give Hinata the praise he needs. “I—I like it,” Oikawa admits, for his own sake as much as Hinata’s. “Just be gentle.”

Realization dawns on Hinata in two forms—a sudden rush of heat to his cheeks, and a slow-growing smile. “Oh,” he says, all of his earlier concern traded in for excitement. “If you say so.”

Oikawa shuts his eyes in anticipation of Hinata’s lips on his nipple. He’s softer this time, kissing it instead of teething, rubbing his fingertips over the other with just enough pressure that Oikawa arches into it. Hinata soothes his tongue and sucks, humming when Oikawa’s breath stutters in disbelief. Through the curling kind of pleasure, Oikawa can faintly feel Hinata’s hair tickle his chest. 

Oikawa doesn’t notice Hinata take his other hand away. What he does notice is the palm that rubs over the head of his cock before enveloping it into a tight fist. His hips jerk upwards of their own accord, fucking into Hinata’s hand. Hinata is quick to force Oikawa into place by sitting back onto his thighs. Something much too close to a whimper escapes Oikawa’s throat as Hinata’s hand on his cock works up to a steady rhythm. It’s quick enough to punch the wind from Oikawa’s chest, leaving him all too close to finishing. Hinata continues to mouth at his nipple, never letting Oikawa get to a point where he could control his own pleasure.

“ _Ahh_ _—_ c-close,” Oikawa manages to stutter, pulling on his restraints as Hinata’s fist tightens. He’s past panting now, each breath broken as it shudders through his chest. 

Hinata breaks away from his chest, a string of spit breaking the tether between his mouth and Oikawa’s nipple. “Don’t,” he tells him, and Oikawa chokes. Hinata’s eyes are whole and warm, looking down at him with a kind of adoration that makes Oikawa want to unravel. “Please?”

Oikawa arches his back and swears, tensing the muscles in his abdomen. Pain twists in his stomach each time he fights the urge to come. If he listened only to his cock, throbbing red between his legs, he would have cum by now. All of the pleasure Hinata has allowed wraps tight around it, near painful. Oikawa’s bones ache with the culmination of every sensation. His thighs _shake_ with it. Drool pools at the corners of his mouth, and dribbles onto his cheek. 

“Babe,” Hinata laughs, breathless. “You’re making a mess of yourself.”

He swipes his fingertips through the drool and spreads it across Oikawa’s jaw. “Sorry,” Oikawa says, without really meaning it. Hinata’s fingertips brush his lips as he speaks. His own voice distorts from the blood rushing in his ears, all the way from his head down to his cock. Dizziness threatens to overtake him.

“You’re the one who asked for this,” Hinata reminds him. It’s not cocky, not teasing or self-assured. He states it without inflection, gaze transparent as it washes over Oikawa’s face. As much as Oikawa is sweating, Hinata is more, his hair plastered across his forehead as he pants ever so slightly. “You’re doing really well. Really well, Tooru.”

Oikawa whines, turning his cheek into the pillow. His ears burn with Hinata’s praise, laced in sincerity and devoid of any teasing lilt. Hinata scoots forward so that he straddles Oikawa’s waist. His cock presses through the thin cloth of his underwear as he grinds against Oikawa’s abs, hands steadying on Oikawa’s shoulders. A slow blush travels up from his chest, paints Hinata’s face red as he takes a deep breath in.

“Wanna—wanna help me get ready for you?” he asks, voice cracking. Oikawa doesn’t bother to mention it, too concerned with the outline of Hinata’s cock.

“Mmhm,” Oikawa hums, trailing his eyes back up to Hinata’s face. He moves to reach forward only for the handcuffs to jerk him back, forcing him to stay in place. “I would, if my hands were free.”

Hinata forces his fluster out with a smile, one that grows and grows until the corners of his mouth stretch like taffy across his face. The grin that follows is just as sweet. 

“You don’t need your hands,” Hinata tells him. He rolls to the side to pull down his briefs, letting his cock bounce free. The button-down falls to the floor, it too discarded, as Hinata perches on the pillow next to Oikawa’s head so that they face the same direction. Oikawa simmers in confusion for half a second before Hinata swings a leg over his shoulder and plants his shins on either side of his head. Hinata’s cock hangs heavy between his thighs, but Hinata makes no move to bring it closer to Oikawa’s mouth. Instead, he reaches around to pull one cheek back and expose his hole.

If Oikawa’s pride was intact, he might have felt shame at the speed with which he leans forward to lick a stripe across Hinata’s hole. This far into the night, there’s very little he wouldn’t do for Hinata, and he’s not above tongue-fucking his ass if it’s what his Shouyou wants. 

He starts with a broad stroke, tonguing Hinata’s hole like a dog, lapping in long, drawn-out motions. Hinata’s hands ground themselves on Oikawa’s chest, no doubt feeling every present thump of his heart against his ribcage. Each suck, each lick has him leaning further onto his points of contact, not yet letting himself collapse fully onto Oikawa’s tongue. Oikawa wants nothing more. He wants Hinata to lose control, to use him like a doll, to leave his jaw sore and aching the way Oikawa would to him. 

When he’s built up enough spit, slicked his own chin with the mess of it, Oikawa begins to push his tongue forward, to breach the ring of muscles that flexes down against him. A broken sound tears through Hinata’s chest as he pushes against Oikawa’s tongue, rocking back. His hand leaves Oikawa’s chest as he seats himself on Oikawa’s mouth, wrapping around Oikawa’s dick. The choked, breathy moans grow louder now, and Oikawa works harder to compete with the pace of Hinata’s own hand. 

“Tooru…” Hinata says, his tone pinched. Oikawa imagines his head thrown back, his back arching as he grinds down on Oikawa’s chin. The taste of sweat and skin is heavy on Oikawa’s tongue, heady like the air in the room. Oikawa craves it, chases after it when Hinata gasps and pulls away. 

“Thought I was helping?” Oikawa asks, his voice a shell of his own. The rasp of his throat makes every word darker, tinted with the depths of his own desire. 

Hinata palms the sheets beside them, looking over his shoulder at Oikawa with a small smile. “You did your bit,” he says, scooching forward so that Oikawa can see more than just the curve of his ass. “Now I do mine.”

The click of the lube popping open is unmistakable. From this angle, all Oikawa can see is Hinata’s back, his ass, the curve of his spine as he reaches around to press his fingers where Oikawa’s tongue once was. He teases for half a second, and looks back at Oikawa, eyes gleaming with a golden kind of pride. And then, with Oikawa’s eyes trained on him, Hinata sinks two fingers in.

Hinata’s eyes flutter shut, his thighs shake. Oikawa watches, enraptured, as Hinata’s fingers press in and out of his own hole. He sinks back onto his haunches, hips rolling down to meet every petty thrust. Oikawa stays silent, lest he miss one of Hinata’s soft moans. The only other sounds are the squelch of lube, the creak of their bed. 

Hinata’s free hand grips his cheek, spreading it wide as if to further taunt Oikawa with the view. Fingers press in all the way to the knuckle, vanishing inside. Oikawa doesn’t even realize he’s pulling at the restraints until his wrists begin to ache. Even the soft fur lining can’t protect him from the force of his own need.

Hinata’s back goes straight, stretching up and out as if a shock rushed through him. Oikawa imagines crooking his own fingers against that spot deep inside, wonders if Hinata strokes it or just brushes up, wonders if he wishes it weren’t his own fingers. Hinata’s head tips back, his other hand wrapping around his dick as a sigh pulls from his chest. With nothing else to do but sit and watch, Oikawa does what he knows best: he talks.

“Shouyou, you sound so good,” Oikawa says, breaking through the knot in his throat. “You must want it so bad, yeah? Bet you’re so tight, _aching_ for it—”

A dopey smile graces Hinata’s face. He casts a glance over his shoulder and slips a third finger inside of himself, moaning as he reaches the knuckle. “You wanna fuck me, Tooru?” he asks, reaching down to squeeze Oikawa’s dick. “You— _ah_ —think you’re ready for it?”

Oikawa swears, toes curling as he digs his heels into the mattress. _“Yes,”_ he hisses, bucking his hips up into Hinata’s palm. “Fuck, I’ll make it good for you baby, _please_.”

The last word snaps in his throat, broken despite all of his efforts to keep himself intact. Hinata closes his eyes for half a second before slipping his fingers out from inside himself, then turns himself around to face Oikawa. There’s no hiding from each other like this, each of their debauchery on display for the other to see. Hinata’s blush extends from the apples of his cheeks, down his chest, all the way to the sharp lines near his hips that lead to his cock, red, hard, angry. Wordless, Hinata slicks his palm with lube, no grace taken as he grabs Oikawa’s cock and coats it. 

Oikawa’s abs ripple with the strength it takes to keep his hips flush to the bed as Hinata grips his cock in one hand and hovers just above the tip. The slow roll of tight heat around him as he enters Hinata sends fire to the tail of Oikawa’s spine. Hinata puts to use over a decade’s worth of training to lower himself at a painstaking pace, savoring each inch of Oikawa’s fat cock inside of him. Oikawa loves those thighs, loves the way they squeeze around him as Hinata pushes himself lower. Oikawa’s mouth falls open in a silent prayer, to God or the universe or Hinata’s ass, and Hinata bottoms out.

“Oh my god,” Oikawa whispers, more to the ceiling than anyone else. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah?” Hinata says, his voice breathy as he rocks forward. His hand slides up Oikawa’s chest, resting just above his heart. The other hand cups Oikawa’s chin, moving his head so that he can look up at Hinata and see the sweat-slick smile on his face. Stupid _—_ stupidly in love.

Hinata settles both hands on Oikawa’s chest and uses the leverage to lift himself back up before dropping back down. The first few thrusts are just like that—blissful torture and all too slow. Oikawa’s dick throbs, oversensitive and as hard as it’s ever been. Hinata’s slow, careful rocking is both too much and not enough, driving Oikawa crazy while leaving him begging for more. His groans turn into whines in a matter of minutes, and only then does Hinata start to ride.

Hinata drops himself down onto Oikawa’s cock, hips rolling as he sinks down to the base. His lip catches between his teeth as he lifts again, working up to a pace that leaves Oikawa chasing his own breath. Hinata paints a picture of perfect obscenity—his dick slaps his stomach each time he rocks back down, his face screwing with pleasure as Oikawa’s cock pushes deeper inside of him. With his eyes screwed shut, nose in a twist, and brows curved, he looks like everything Oikawa has ever dreamed of.

As Hinata falls further and further into himself, his grip on Oikawa weakens. Hands slip and Hinata tips forward, the angle shifting just enough to reach somewhere it hadn’t before. Hinata cries out, nails scratching scorching lines down Oikawa’s chest. The pain doesn’t register with Oikawa. How could it, when Hinata clenches down on his cock, hungry and desperate for something, _anything_ more? Oikawa pulls up his knees to support Hinata from behind, feet planted into the bed to give him some kind of force to thrust up. They both groan in unison, Hinata reaching further forward to grip Oikawa’s hair.

“Ah— _yes_ _—”_ Hinata mumbles, resuming his pace. His fingers twist in Oikawa’s curls, tug at his scalp in a way that should be painful but only makes the pit in Oikawa’s stomach grow. Hinata squeezes impossibly tighter around him, moving fast enough that thoughts leave Oikawa entirely. Hinata’s own cries sound foreign to him, cotton ears muffling any meaning the words could hold. Somewhere in the humid haze of sweat and skin, Oikawa hears himself chant: _yes yes yes yes_ _—_

Hinata comes first, slamming himself down on Oikawa’s cock. His eyes fly open in shock and ecstasy, hands yanking Oikawa’s head back into an arch. His dick spurts, cum shooting all the way up his chest, splattered against his abs, his tits, his chin. Not once does he stop, still grinding down on Oikawa’s cock until Oikawa lets himself go. His orgasm tears through him, hips stuttering as he comes deep inside of Hinata.

In the moments immediately after, Hinata collapses. The total weight of his boyfriend is welcome as Oikawa’s mind begins to clear, comforting, almost. Neither speak for a minute or so as Oikawa goes fully soft, legs falling back onto the bed. A small groan breaks the silence—Hinata pushes himself upright and eases himself off of Oikawa’s cock, cum leaking down from his ass and over Oikawa’s dick. Hinata pulls a face and reaches for the towel they have on hand, tucking it under himself. 

“Mmmm, come back,” Oikawa murmurs. Hinata laughs, airy and light, and crawls forward to undo Oikawa’s restraints. Once the handcuffs fall loose, he grabs both of Oikawa’s cheeks in his hands, leaning down to press their foreheads together.

“Hey,” Hinata says, rubbing his thumbs over Oikawa’s face.

“Hey,” Oikawa responds, arms lowering to his side. He sniffles, blinking away something in his eye. 

Hinata rubs his thumb across his under-eye, smearing something wet across his cheek. “I didn’t notice you crying.”

“Oh. Did I?” Oikawa asks. “I didn’t notice either.” 

Hinata hums leaning forward to peck Oikawa’s nose. “So long as you enjoyed yourself.”

Oikawa groans, sighing with the weight of a man who has just met god. Or the universe. Or Hinata Shouyou. “It was… a lot.”

“Good?” Hinata asks, leaning back again. His hands rub Oikawa’s shoulders, massaging where they meet his neck.

_“Great.”_

Hinata laughs at Oikawa’s rush to answer, letting himself fall back into the crook of his neck. “I’m glad. I didn’t think I’d know what to do.”

Oikawa tries to lift his arms and finds an ache pointed enough that persuades him not to. Instead, he curls upwards, tucking his chin on Hinata’s head to hold him close. “I love you, baby,” he says, unable to keep the adoration out of his tone.

Oikawa feels Hinata smile against his neck. “Yeah,” Hinata whispers, looking up just in time to see Oikawa’s eyes gleam. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twt @lesbianiwaizumi!


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